


The Secret Ingredient

by bluegeekEM, lilyrose225



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bonding, Cooking, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Food, Friends to Lovers (or on the way at least), Friendship, Injury Recovery, M/M, Not Canon Compliant for The Last Jedi, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, The First Order Sucks, a bit of Stormtrooper Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-10 17:18:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18664876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluegeekEM/pseuds/bluegeekEM, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyrose225/pseuds/lilyrose225
Summary: Food plays a significant cultural role.  It can be used to build friendships, to offer comfort, and to entice... or it can be used as a means of control.Dismayed to learn that Finn has experienced precious little in his life beyond trooper rations and the First Order's restrictive attitudes towards its people, Poe is determined to introduce him to all the galaxy can offer.That... might not be limited to just food, actually.





	The Secret Ingredient

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Eclipsemidnight, Lilyrose225, and Rachel for their hard work.
> 
> Of note, this story takes place after The Force Awakens and is an AU after the end of that movie.

*

_“Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon or not at all.”_ -Harriet van Horne

_“My weaknesses have always been food and men - in that order.”_ -Dolly Parton

** ** **

Poe walked into the med center to find Finn awake and smiling around a spoon in his mouth.

"Hey, buddy!" 

Finn drew the spoon out of his mouth with a small flourish and offered Poe a grin full of teeth. "Hi, Poe!"

Once Poe's brain turned away from contemplating Finn's lips on the spoon and returned to the conversation at hand, it had probably turned into an uncomfortably-long pause. He coughed into his hand and set his eyes on a point just over Finn's shoulder. "How's it going?"

"I've been upgraded!" Finn swept a hand over to the tray in front of him, which, Poe noticed with satisfaction, had noticeable dents in most of the bowls and cups. "Clear liquids, they call it."

Poe laughed at Finn's apparent delight. "Sounds... delicious."

"Oh, it is! Wanna try some? This green stuff is great." Finn held out his spoon with a wobbly pile of something gelatinous on it.

"No thanks, buddy. You should eat up yourself. Wouldn't want the medi droids to get annoyed at either of us and you’ve gotta show them you can handle this stuff so they'll let you have something a bit more... palatable."

Finn sighed. "I guess so. I’m not ready to switch to regular rations yet. I think I'll miss the green stuff." 

And then the spoon was back in Finn's mouth and Poe's mind was back in the trash heap.

Well then. 

"How about I tell you about the news from outside of medical?"

Finn's eye lit up and he nodded, even as he lifted a glass of something vaguely pinkish to his lips and downed it in one go.

"Well, no word from Rey and Chewbacca themselves, yet, but R2D2 sent a message saying that they'd arrived and located Master Skywalker. Apparently he’s being... I think 'obstreperous' was the word C-3PO used. I imagine Chewbacca’s original report was worded somewhat more strongly."

Finn’s only response to that was a roll of his eyes.

"Nothing major has been heard from the First Order regarding Ren or Hux. It’s assumed that they survived since it's hard as hell to kill womprats fleeing a burning sandship, but with nothing to really validate our suspicions we can only continue to listen to whispers and try to keep on top of any intel. In fact, I'll be heading out with Snap to try and gather some information within the next day or two..."

** ** **

The next time Poe visited Finn in the med bay, after successfully completing a reconnaissance mission - _without any problems, thank you very much Pava!_ \- he again caught Finn in the middle of a meal. It would seem he’d been upgraded again since he had a pile of green and yellow vegetables on a plate in front of him and a chunky soup of some sort that smelled nearly edible.

"Poe, BB-8! You're back!" Finn rubbed a napkin across his lips before tossing it back down onto the tray and gesturing to the chair pulled close to his bed. "Sit and join me, there's extra!"

"That's okay, buddy, I just wanted to stop by and say hello before I grab a shower and a meal in the mess. I need to meet with the higher-ups to debrief and discuss our next moves.”

"Aww." Finn looked honestly disappointed. "Anything I'm allowed to know about?"

"Well, the short version is that we didn't get anything definitive, just the usual whispers that could be the result of fear or deliberate misinformation. The long story is... well, not much longer than that, actually. It's a feeling I have."

"Yeah? What feeling?"

"Eat some more of your dinner, Finn, I don't want Dr. Kalonia deciding that I'm a bad influence on you and revoking my visitation privileges." Poe waited until Finn had grabbed up his fork and stuffed a few bites of the vegetables into his mouth before continuing. "I don't know, exactly. I just don't like the idea that we still haven't heard anything about Ren or Hux since Starkiller was destroyed. They aren't exactly subtle, either of them."

BB-8 emitted the droid equivalent of blowing a raspberry, which Poe took as agreement, thank you very much. 

Finished with the veggies, Finn turned to his stew and dug a spoon in with gusto. "And?" he asked, before shoveling in a large bite. 

"And the last we've heard from them is that Ren and Hux made it off the planet before it blew and were likely heading to report to Snoke. We know that Ren was hurt from Rey's report, but how long can we expect him to be incapacitated?"

"Well-" Finn coughed around his mouthful of stew and Poe very nearly reached out to pat him on the back before catching himself. 

_Yes, Poe, hit the guy with a huge back injury directly in the spine, that's a brilliant idea._

Instead, Poe handed Finn a glass of water, and watched as Finn drank and waved away his concern.

"I'm fine, I got ahead of myself." Finn cleared his throat and downed the rest of the glass of water before continuing, "What I was going to say is that I can testify that I have firsthand knowledge of lightsaber wounds and it is not an enjoyable recovery. The First Order has greater resources than the Resistance, but you can only speed up healing so much. I doubt Ren would allow himself to be vulnerable in a bacta tank or an induced coma for long."

Poe nodded. “That’s a good point. Still, I’m not going to rest easy until we can get something definitive.”

Finn leveled him with a serious gaze. “I won’t rest easy until we reach the end of this war.”

“Point.”

** ** **

After his debriefing and several solid hours of rack time, Poe headed back to the med center, fueled by the rumor of Finn’s possible release within the next day or two.

Why BB-8, three separate pilots, and two flight engineers all independently felt the need to update him on that particular development, Poe didn’t plan to examine too closely. 

Unsurprisingly, Poe caught Finn mid-meal and sat and chatted with him while he ate, Poe nursing his second cup of caf as he did.

"I'm going to miss this once I'm on regular rations,” Finn said around bites of food. “I have to say, if more stormtroopers knew how well the Resistance treats its wounded, we might be able to convince more of them to defect."

Poe did not miss where the ‘we’ and ‘them’ were placed in that statement and it filled him with a little burst of _something_ indefinable. 

"Har har. Well, I suppose anything's worth a shot in order to shore up our numbers."

Finn stopped chewing and looked at Poe in confusion.

Poe looked back. "Wait, are you serious?"

Finn nodded and swallowed the tuber in his mouth. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"This whole time? You've actually _liked_ medical food?"

"Yes," Finn said slowly. "This is the best food that hasn’t been smuggled in amongst the troops that I've eaten in as long as I can remember. And they just _give_ it to me. No bartering, no worrying about getting caught and reconditioned, nothing."

Poe gaped. "I- huh. Wow. And I thought I knew all the ways the First Order used to torture people."

Finn put his utensil down and glared at Poe. "That's not funny."

"I know. But it's how I'm coping." Seeing Finn open his mouth again, Poe rushed ahead, "But that is neither here nor there. I clearly need to introduce you to the mess hall tonight after we get you settled. It's far from gourmet, but there are choices and if you know who to sweet talk in the kitchen then you can usually get an upgrade."

“Of course I’ll go with you, but wait… You mean you _don’t_ like the food here?”

“Finn? The food is one of the multiple reasons I try to stay out of medical.”

A thoughtful expression crossed Finn’s face. “You’ve been spending a lot of time here lately.”

Poe shrugged. “Visiting’s different. I like seeing that my people are okay and when you’re a visitor there aren’t any med droids peering over your shoulder and judging your fitness for discharge based upon your ability to choke down the rations.”

Finn went quiet for a moment. “So, I’m… one of your people?”

Poe smiled at him, hoping that Finn, despite having been raised in the First Order, could read the honesty in his voice and expression. “Finn, you are _definitely_ one of my people.”

Even BB-8 chimed in agreement. 

Finn’s mouth broke into a wide smile. “Good. I like that.”

Then he returned to his meal and laughed when Poe declined his offer to share the pudding he’d been saving for dessert. “Your loss.”

“I think not. When are they gonna spring you from this place? I need to give you some perspective.”

** ** **

As rumored, Finn was cleared to leave the med center the next day. Dr. Kalonia gave him a _long_ list of discharge instructions, an order to report back the next day to start his physical therapy regimen, and an encouraging smile.

Poe was given a narrowed glance and instructions to take good care of his newest charge, including an order to wait on giving Finn a full tour of the base until he’d had a chance to test his stamina in the controlled atmosphere of the rehab ward.

“Yes, Ma’am. Our only plans for the afternoon are to get him settled into quarters and to introduce him to the mess hall.”

Dr. Kalonia levelled Poe with a _look_. “Try to show some restraint, Commander Dameron. It would seem that the First Order does not place a high emphasis on nutritional variety and I suspect your Finn hasn’t been exposed to much. I would like to avoid his being admitted with gastrointestinal distress so soon after recovering from his battle wounds.”

Poe felt his cheeks warm and coughed to cover his discomfort. “Well, he’s his own Finn, ma’am, but I’ll keep a good eye on him and encourage restraint.”

“I don’t think that restraint is in your midi-chlorians, Dameron, so you’ll forgive me my disbelief. BB-8? I’m counting on you.”

BB-8 chirped and rolled excitedly at this measure of trust. 

Back in familiar territory, Poe offered her a grin. “I can hardly argue with that, now can I?” Just then, Poe spied Finn leaving his bay of the medical wing dressed in the bright white medical-issue clothing. 

“Hmmph. Well then, off with you three. I’ve got work to do and you are no longer a registered inpatient, Mr. Finn. See that you stay that way for the foreseeable future, if you would?”

“Absolutely, Doctor.” Finn promised fervently.

** ** **

In deference to his recovery, and because he didn’t have a work group assignment to place him into the bunk-style quarters, Finn had been assigned a single room down the corridor from Poe’s own, right at the end of the pilots’ wing. The room was tiny, just barely fitting a single bed and a dresser that tripled as a nightstand and desk, but it did boast the benefit of having its own equally tiny, though blessedly private, ‘fresher.

Noting how stiffly he walked down the corridors, Poe was very glad that Finn wouldn’t have to deal with the inevitable jostling and tripping over one another that came with shared living spaces and tight quarters.

Finn took one look at the room and turned wide eyes to Poe. “Where’s- You mean I? I get this whole room to myself? No sharing?”

Ever since seeing Finn carried off the Falcon, limp and gray, Poe had felt like his heart was being firmly gripped in a vice – or perhaps more accurately in one of Finn’s big hands. And now it felt like it was being squeezed, just a bit more.

“Yeah, buddy. All yours. And there’s a surprise in the bottom drawer.”

Finn didn’t waste a moment before pulling open the drawer and reaching down to grab at a few of the small packages in there.

“What are- Oh! Are these-?”

“Yup,” Poe replied, unexpectedly relieved when he saw the smile on Finn’s face. “I raided my snack stockpile - and a few of the others contributed, too - to help set you up in your new room. Think of it like a housewarming present.”

“I have no idea what that is, but thank you, Poe. Thank you so much!” Finn held a few of the packages to his chest over his heart and positively _beamed_.

And there went that vice around Poe’s heart again.

** ** **

Poe bore Finn’s awe at having his own quarters for a good five minutes before gently nudging him into the ‘fresher to change into real clothes. Once dressed in a few of the items that Poe and the quartermaster have been able to rustle up, Finn allowed Poe to lead him back into the hallway and show him the way to the mess.

It wasn’t prime meal time when they arrived, fortunately, which meant Poe didn’t have to glare down any impatient and hungry hordes who might be inclined to rush Finn through his first experience in making his own meal choices.

Though not large, since the Resistance generally couldn’t risk staying in one place long enough to really settle in anywhere, the kitchens did have to provide food for a variety of species, some of whom had wildly differing nutritional needs. Those in charge were also savvy enough to know that food - from taste, of course, but also to the variety, temperature, and more - played a large role in building and maintaining morale, as did the opportunity to eat in groups and have the experience of sharing a meal with those people upon whom your life could literally depend. 

As such, it was a point of pride that the Resistance kitchens worked tirelessly to meet the needs, both physical and mental, of its members.

Poe gave Finn a brief tour of the food stations, pointing out the small indicators that offered clues as to which species would derive nutrition from each dish, nutritional contents, potential allergens, and levels of spice or heat.

Finn made a full circuit of the stations twice before following Poe’s lead and taking a tray and beginning to hesitantly serve himself. Poe watched as Finn placed a sample of just about everything labeled as human-safe onto his tray, even the items Poe argued vehemently against.

Finn had a surprisingly stubborn streak, it turned out.

Settling into a table in the corner, Poe picked through his own food idly as he watched with interest as Finn systematically worked his way through each item on his tray, testing small bites at first and graduating to healthy mouthfuls as he confirmed he liked them. There were very few foods in the rejected category, limited only to a dish primarily geared towards Mon Calamari nutritional needs and another with an extremely high spice content that even caused Poe’s near-legendary tolerance to suffer a bit depending on which of the kitchen staff had made it that week.

“You all eat like this every day? This many options, I mean?” Despite being wrapped up in this new experience, Poe noted that Finn chewed and swallowed fully before speaking.

“Eh, not necessarily. It all depends on the status of our supply lines, how risky food shipments are at any given time, whether we’re on the run versus able to stay put for a period of time, and what needs to be used up before it spoils. We have a store of emergency rations, also. Those last forever, and taste like it too, unfortunately.” 

Poe made a face descriptive enough that Finn laughed, covering his mouth quickly with his hand and then grabbing at his water glass.

“Anyways, we try to keep those in storage for when we’re running low on fresh supplies and can’t risk shipments, or when the First Order cuts off or intimidates a supplier. Or when were on the run. The rest of the time the kitchen staff do their best to offer variety and something for everyone. It’s been tough at times, but they find a way.”

“Yeah. And almost everything is really great!” Finn enthused, clearing his tray of the last bite of mashed tuber. “Even the ones you said weren’t that good, I found tasty.”

Poe laughed. “Guess I’m pickier than I’d have thought. And it always takes a couple weeks for them to settle in to a new space when we’ve had to move bases like we did while you recovered.” Poe shrugged. “And it’s just hard to really enjoy some dishes when I know I could make them better, or if I have a clear memory in my head of what they should taste like.”

“You can cook?” Finn didn’t even try to hide his surprise.

“Absolutely, my friend. I am a man of many talents.”

Unlike his pilots, who at this point would be jeering and rolling their eyes at Poe, Finn merely nodded in what seemed, somehow, to be sincere agreement. “Will you show me? Someday, I mean?”

How on earth did this man emerge from an organization like the First Order?

“It would be my pleasure, buddy.”

** ** **

Finn joined Poe and the rest of the pilots for meals over the next two days, and Poe wasn’t the only one to have the fun of introducing Finn to a new food or taste.

Pava introduced Finn to the joys of the condiment alcove, describing the best and worst concoctions that she used to eat as a child. This led Finn to his own experiments with whatever was available and human-safe, and the pilots spent a happy ten minutes betting on which sauces, spices, and sides would make the grade as Finn systematically tried each combination of flavors with each of the foods on his plate.

Poe did _not_ manage to warn him about the Corellian pepper sauce in time, unfortunately, and had to convince Finn that a trip back to medical wasn’t necessary despite the fact that he insisted that his face was surely melting off. Poe has not forgotten Dr. Kalonia’s warning to him prior to Finn’s release and he didn’t think that the good doctor would accept “meddling asshole friends” as an acceptable excuse for Finn’s swift return for medical treatment. 

Poe pushed a mug of milk towards Finn, urging him to drink while glaring at Pava’s grinning face over Finn’s shoulder. Finn reluctantly sipped at the blue liquid and leaned heavily against Poe’s side while BB-8 whirled and beeped around them in concern. Pava just winked at him and caught the credit that Snap tossed her.

“You are evil incarnate,” Poe mouthed at them.

“Enjoy your snuggle, fellas,” Pava said, obnoxiously ruffling Poe’s hair as she passed. “I’ve got training. Finn? You should probably stick by Poe today so he can keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t have an allergy or something.”

Finn’s eyes widened and he looked down at his plate in horror for a moment before gulping at the milk once again, nodding to Pava as he did so.

_Oh, kriffing hell._

** ** **

Poe was due to fly out on a scouting mission with Snap that would double as a chance to meet a potential supplier face-to-face and potentially pick up a few new Resistance recruits from nearby stations. Knowing he’d be away for most of the day, Poe introduced Finn to Melawano and Idi. “These are two of the folks that make the magic happen. And sometimes sneak something special onto your plate if you ask nicely.”

Melawano was one of the lead coordinators in the mess. In addition to being a solid guy and good friend, he was also the person who kept track of the Resistance members on and off base and worked to ensure that everyone had access to the foods that met their nutritional needs, regardless of species, allergies, and special requirements for injury or illness recovery. 

Idi was the person in charge of general kitchen operations, from approving food shipments to designing menus to occasionally even finding a way to pull something palatable off despite critical shortages of supplies. She was a bit of a miracle worker, in Poe’s estimation.

Both seemed a bit surprised at the fervor in Finn’s voice when he thanked them for their role in both his recovery and his introduction to the Resistance. Poe had given them a brief explanation of how the stormtroopers in the First Order were raised and they didn’t inquire too deeply into Finn’s enthusiasm, though Melawano couldn’t resist a few questions pertaining to his role. 

“And you haven’t had any trouble adapting to the wider variety of food here, Finn? No stomach upsets or signs of allergies?”

“Not really. I’ve found a few foods that I don’t like as much as others, and there are some condiments that I won’t ever touch again-” Finn paused and narrowed his eyes at Poe when he couldn’t resist a soft snort. “But other than that, the transition has gone pretty well.”

Melawano nodded. “I’m impressed. I’ve met other beings who have had very restricted nutritional or flavor exposures before and some of them find the variety offered in a standard kitchen, or even our kitchen, too overpowering.”

“I can see how that could happen, I guess,” Finn replied with a shrug. “But the medical team was cautious with what I was allowed to eat in the beginning, so that probably helped. And even back when I was a trooper I had a little more variety than most, sometimes, because I was willing to try foods that some of the other problem-troopers would sometimes be able to sneak in. And some of my assignments were in sanitation, so when I was on a work shift that included the officers’ areas, I would be able to take a few of their leftovers to use for trades. It didn’t happen often, but that might have made it easier to adapt here. And boy am I glad for it.”

Finn continued to chat with Melawano and Idi, fortunately, so Poe wouldn’t have to explain the angry expression that he couldn’t quite keep off his face.

** ** **

Poe met with a contact from his New Republic days and talked his way into ninety percent of a trade deal (the General would have to cement the last ten percent, but he could at least present her with a deal that they could mostly trust) that would supply the Resistance with a more reliable source for fresh fruit and vegetables in the upcoming months.

After declining an offer for another drink and offering one last handshake, Poe set off from the cantina on the south end of the town. He wandered a few blocks, keeping his senses sharp for signs that he’d picked up a tail or drawn more attention than he wanted, but the coast seemed clear.

A few minutes later he came across a group of people crowded into a small square packed with stalls. He still had nearly a half hour to go before he was supposed to meet Snap after the man’s own recruitment mission, so it wouldn’t hurt to spend the time getting lost in the crowds of the market.

Poe wandered the edges of the market and even indulged in a skewer of a heavily-spiced avian meat that tested the limits of even his heat-tolerance. Although he considered bringing back a satchel of the spice to gift the kitchens, he settled for a milder variant that would appeal to a greater number of his comrades. 

And then he spied the Yavinese hand pies. The stall had a variety of confections, but an entire shelf was devoted to a dozen varieties of the little pies, both sweet and savory. The shine on the flaky pastry was unmistakable and Poe could practically feel the crisp of the layers between his teeth and taste the spices worked into the dough to compete with the variety of fillings. 

Now this was reason enough to have arranged a meeting on this planet. Despite being temperamental to make in temperature extremes, these hand pies were a very popular Yavinese dish that Poe indulged in whenever he could track them down. And thus, they were something he wanted to share, so he’d best find out how many the vendor could safely wrap for transport in the eight minutes he had left before he had to meet Snap and his contact.

**

Poe dropped the largest package off in one of the anterooms near where the pilots and support staff had their training, serviced the various fleet ships, and caught some R&R when they could find the downtime. He knew their radar-sense for food would likely put an end to productivity for the next hour or so, but Poe was a big believer in supporting morale when possible.

His second stop was to debrief with the General and her staff. He and Snap both gave their reports, along with their personal impressions of the missions, and before he left them to plan the next steps, Poe placed a box down on the desk by General Organa’s elbow. She didn’t stop making notes on her console, but she did raise an eyebrow at him, and he was almost sure he caught a quirk of her lips. 

“Sounds, and smells, like you conducted a successful operation, Commander.”

“Yes, ma’am, I’d say that I did. I hope you and the lieutenants are hungry, General.”

“As a matter of fact we missed lunch, oh, about three hours ago, so I think we’re up to the challenge.”

“At this point I think it’s called dinner now, ma’am.”

Leia laughed and finally put her notes down to pull the fragrant box towards her, both Lieutenants Connix and Urora sidling up bedside her. “Would you like to join us, Poe?”

“Thank you, ma’am, but I have another delivery to make, actually.”

Leia smiled at him as she handed a golden pastry to the relieved looking Connix. “Please say hello to him, for me, and tell him I hope his recovery is going well. And that he enjoys what is likely a new experience for him.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Poe made a conscious decision not to think too hard on why the General already knew exactly where, and to whom, he was headed.

**

The expression of delight on Finn’s face when he bit into the first pastry, a savory one stuffed to bursting with onions and leafy greens, made the effort of transporting them all back to base worth it. Heck, it even made enduring Snap’s teasing and the General’s knowing smile worth it.

Probably.

“This is the best thing I have ever put into my mouth,” Finn exclaimed between bites, polishing the pie off in a matter of moments and reaching for another. “Ooh, this one has fruit in it! Poe, you _have_ to try this.” 

And then Finn broke off a piece and held it up to Poe’s mouth in expectation.

Okay, definitely worth it, Poe decided, dutifully accepting the bite and trying to resist the urge to nip playfully at Finn’s fingers.

** ** **

Apparently the General’s involvement in Poe’s private life, or whatever you’d call what he has with Finn, wasn’t going to be restricted to brief, supportive comments offered in near privacy.

Oh no. Of course not.

“There are several contacts that have expressed in interest in sharing intel and a small group of former-Republic pilots and grounds crew who would like to join us.”

Information was precious, Poe knew, but he couldn’t deny that the thought of a boost to their ranks of trained pilots made his heart flutter, just a bit. There never seemed to be enough people and ships to meet the needs of the Resistance, and starfighter pilots during wartime didn’t have the most robust lifespan. They still hadn’t fully recovered, both in numbers and morale, from their losses during the Starkiller skirmish and the resulting evacuation of the base at D’Qar.

Poe pulled his attention back from that particular line of thought as the General continued.

“I’ve set up data drops and personnel meetings on Yavin. Your father has been the one to vet several of the contacts for reliability and quality, and, for the moment, Yavin is in a quiet enough location that we should be able to pull this off without First Order interference. Even so, I’m keeping the mission team small. Half of Blue Squadron will be providing defense for the munitions team on their next supply run. I’d like you to join them and break off to Yavin for the rendezvous.”

Sending someone familiar with Yavin IV and the intel contact made sense, of course. And Poe knew that this was a valuable mission - information and recruitment were more than enough reason to take him out of the flying guard lineup - but he couldn’t help but wonder if the General had other motives as well.

Or perhaps his father had made a request, having given up on pestering Poe directly about his decision to break from the New Republic…

His train of thought was interrupted, however, by the General’s final addition. “And I’ll be sending Finn with you. He’s been cleared for more activity and I want to get him more involved in Resistance activities to make sure he’s really seen as one of us now. As someone who has likely not had much convalescent time in his life, I would imagine that he may appreciate having responsibilities again.”

Poe couldn’t deny that Finn was getting antsy with his current lack of structure compared to his former life. He’d even gone so far as to offer his time to help out in the medical wards and assisting Poe and other pilots with their repairs and calibrations. So it made sense, of course, to put a valuable asset to work. 

Nothing more to it, surely.

** ** **

His fellow pilots weren’t of the same mind, of course, waving Poe off with kissy faces and the occasional ribald joke.

Poe was determined to ignore them. 

Finn was, unsurprisingly, comfortable company as they departed from base along with several members of Blue Squadron and then deviated off on their own course for a short hyperspace journey to Yavin IV. When they reached their final descent onto the planet, however, Finn’s conversation broke off and he stared out the viewport at the lush greenery and ancient structures of the planet ahead.

“Wow, Poe… You grew up here?”

“Yeah, partially. I spent a lot of time with my grandfather, my mother’s father, when I was young since both of my parents fought in the war against the Empire. But when they left the Alliance they settled down here and it’s where I spent the rest of my childhood.”

“And the General said that your father is here? And he’s the contact for our mission?”

“Yeah. That’s where we’ll be staying, actually. At our family home, I mean. I would never hear the end of it if I came out here for the first time in years and didn’t spend at least a little time at home.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I think that the chance to see Dad might be part of the reason that the General sent us. He wasn’t exactly pleased when I left the New Republic and joined the Resistance.”

At Finn’s worried expression, Poe hurried to clarify. “I don’t mean he disapproves of the Alliance’s mission, and he certainly doesn’t support the First Order. It’s just that he’s still mourning the loss of my mother and the idea of his only kid out there and causing the trouble that we do can’t possibly sit well with him.”

“Your mom?” Finn’s voice was hesitant. “You said your parents settled down here on Yavin IV, so she didn’t die in the war, then…”

“Yeah. My mom got sick and died when I was still a kid. Nothing to do with her service in the war, as far as I know, but. Well. It was pretty rough. And since my grandfather died, my dad and I are all the immediate family that we have left. Being a pilot up against odds like these? Well, my father already lived through that once, waiting for word on my mother’s missions. I think that he just doesn’t want to get a message from the General telling him that he’s on his own.”

“I can understand that, actually. Sort of, I mean.”

Poe settled their ship down to a soft landing in a clearing well away from his father’s home. Once he’s started the shutdown sequence he looked over at Finn’s thoughtful and sad face.

“You’re not on your own anymore, Finn. You know that, right?”

Finn looked over and met Poe’s eyes before turning again to face the viewport, and through it the forest.

“My mind is starting to get it, I think. But it’ll take a while longer to feel real.”

Poe wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so when Finn stood up from his seat and patted him on the shoulder in a move that Poe recognized as one of his own, he just followed in silence.

** ** **

They found the speeders that had been left for them and stowed their bags in the storage compartments. Amusingly, one of the bikes had a sidecar attachment, perfectly sized to fit BB-8. His father certainly didn’t miss any tricks.

Their trek to the homestead took under an hour, even at the leisurely pace Poe set through the trees until he saw that Finn was more than capable handling of the craft. Between the travel and the minimal brain power it took to handle the speeder, Poe had plenty of time to think about his upcoming reunion with his father. Which meant plenty of time to dwell on the worries that his conversation with Finn had allowed to bubble up.

Poe and his father had argued so vehemently when he had joined the Resistance, unlike anything from even Poe’s rebellious teenager phase. Even when the arguments faded into an uneasy detente, their communications had remained stilted and awkward. 

This is the longest Poe had ever gone without seeing his father in person. And he was bringing a former stormtrooper home with him. Poe wasn’t entirely sure how this would go.

BB-8’s chirping interruption was a welcome one, just then, so Poe distracted himself with the little droid’s teasing for the remainder of the journey.

**

They arrived just as full darkness fell, and Poe felt a wave of nostalgia fall over him as he looked up at the hazy glow of light through the windows.

“You okay?” Finn stepped close to Poe’s side and nudged him gently with his arm. BB-8 beeped inquiringly at Poe’s other side.

“Yeah, actually. Memories, but happy ones. That’s all.”

“Maybe you’ll tell me about them sometime?” Finn asked.

Poe smiled. “Yeah, buddy. You got it.”

The moment was broken when a voice called from the doorway ahead. “Well look what the loper dragged in! Planning on standing out there all night?”

And just like that, the teasing note in his father’s voice melted away the lingering worries about this trip home, and in a few long strides, Poe was gathered into a firm hug while his dad laughed in his ear. 

“Good to have you back, son.”

“Good to be back, Dad.”

Kes loosened his hold and stepped back, giving Poe a once-over. He apparently met muster, because his father looked up and gestured behind Poe. 

“And I hear that I get to meet another hero of the Resistance today?”

Thankful for his father’s purposeful emphasis on Finn’s new allegiance, Poe turned and waved Finn forward. “Yes, he definitely is. Dad, this is Finn. Finn, this is my father, Kes Dameron.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Dameron.” Finn offered his hand. 

“I’m Kes, please. And it’s good to meet the man that I hear is responsible for getting my son off a First Order Star Destroyer.” Kes took Finn’s hand before pulling him into a brief hug as well. “Thank you.”

So, the General and his father _had_ been talking about him. Poe wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that. 

Finn sputtered for a moment, though didn’t seem distressed. “Well, it was a team effort, sir.”

Kes laughed and turned to Poe. “Let’s get you two settled inside and give Finn the grand tour, shall we?”

** ** **

The stress and hectic schedule of the weeks since the attack on Starkiller Base, combined with the soul-warming comfort of stepping back into the familiarity of his childhood home, hit Poe like a Bantha. When all the introductions were over and they’d finally settled in for the night, he wound up sleeping like the dead for fourteen hours straight.

When he finally woke up, it took several moments for his mind to catch on to where he was, and then another few to accept that it wasn’t a continuation of his dream. After taking care of a few necessary body needs, he nearly gave in to the urge to return to bed, but a faint guilt about leaving Finn to his own devices for this long in yet another strange place led him to seek out the rest of the home’s inhabitants.

He followed the blissful smell of cooking and hot caf to the kitchen and paused just outside when he heard the soft murmur of conversation within.

Poe leaned against the doorway and watched as his father guided Finn in the proper blend of spices for the hearty stew that was the cause of both the delicious aroma and a new rush of memories. He listened as Kes finished writing out each spice and where it could best be acquired, as well as which ones could be used in their dried forms in a pinch and which would apparently bring about the end of the world as he knew it if one dared to substitute.

He didn’t specify what _amounts_ of each to use, much to Finn’s clear chagrin.

It was also, amusingly, nearly identical to the way Poe himself learned from his grandfather many years ago, and he wondered when Kes had been the subject of his father-in-law’s gruff but thorough tutelage.

Watching Finn handle chopping the vegetables while his father heated oil in a large pot in preparation for sautéeing the meat revealed that his father’s lessons had not been restricted to flavorings alone. By the time Finn looked up and finally caught sight of Poe in the doorway, there was a sizable pile of admirably even slices of veg in the counter near him.

“Poe! You’re awake!”

Kes looked up from the pot with an arched brow and Poe suspected that his father had known of his presence before Finn’s greeting. “And it’s about time, too. Come in here, I’ve got a job for you.”

Poe huffed out a small laugh and walked over to throw an arm around his father’s shoulder and lean into him briefly. “Of course you do.”

Kes laughed and leaned back before handing long-handled spoon towards Poe. “Here, cook the meat, and keep a close eye on it. Don’t over cook a nice cut like that.”

“Yes, Dad.” Poe took the proffered utensil and snapped off a sharp salute to a roll of his father’s eyes. Kes then tapped Finn on the shoulder and gestured him over to the cloth-draped bowls. “Time to check on the dough, we want the bread to be ready with the stew…”

Poe redirected his attention back to his task – he _definitely_ didn’t want to hear it from his father if the meat was anything but perfect – but didn’t bother to hide the wide smile on his face.

** ** **

Most of the intel they’d received was simply passed along to them through Kes. The reason for the longer stay on Yavin IV, however, was because there were a few face-to-face meetings with informants who either wouldn’t commit their intel to hardcopy or who wanted to give it to a member of the Resistance directly.

The first such meeting, with a pair of siblings who had ties to the seedier side of the New Republic and several smuggling cartels across the galaxy, took place in a rundown house several hours speeder ride away. It was surprisingly fruitful given that trust was usually in very short supply in that particular career. Kes’ name, and therefore Poe’s name, carried weight with them, however, and Poe would have to remember to pry that particular story from his father later.

They provided information on which of the galaxy’s smugglers had made deals with the First Order and which were vehemently opposed, information on the Order’s strongest current supply lines, and a hodgepodge of other information that might seem minor when viewed on its own but which Poe new the analysts back on base would be able to piece together into a far more valuable bigger picture.

Poe handed the data cards the pair supplied over to Finn, who tucked them into his jacket. _The_ jacket, Poe couldn’t help but note. The information that they wouldn’t transmit to hard copy, however, was even more interesting.

“You’re the one, aren’t you?” Tel asked, before scoffing at her brother’s hiss. “The one who broke conditioning and defected from the First Order?”

Finn paused before answering. “I am, but I didn’t know that the news had gotten out. The Order doesn’t like any signs of disorder in the ranks to be made public.”

“They don’t,” Chan replied. “Which makes it all the more interesting that we’ve been hearing rumors that the First Order has been quashing further dissent over the past several weeks. Interesting, don’t you think?”

Finn shot a quick glance at Poe before answering. “Yes, actually, it is.”

“Do you think others might, or could, do the same as you?” Tel asked.

Finn’s answer was tentative. “I… don’t know. I hadn’t had a plan, exactly. I just saw a chance and I took it. I’m not sure if another trooper would do the same.”

There was a long pause before Finn asked, “Why are you asking? Are you expecting a stormtrooper rebellion? Because the First Order rewards people for reporting aberrant behavior, and their corrective methods are… effective. It’s not likely, I’m afraid.”

The siblings glared at each other for several seconds before Chan scowled and crossed his arms against his chest. 

Tel nodded and turned back to Finn. “We had two other brothers. Our family was as poor as you can find, the type of poor that doesn’t get paid any attention, even when two kids are snatched right out of their shack by the First Order, less than a street away from the security forces patrolling the slums.”

Chan shook his head. “There are a lot of unlikely things in the galaxy, and we’re good at shifting and stretching the odds here and there.”

And with that, they stood and left, ending the meeting abruptly.

** ** **

Finn was quiet on the trip back to the Dameron home and he declined dinner, heading to his room and closing the door behind him.

Bb-8 fussed quietly outside the door, setting up a guard of sorts, and waiting for Finn to emerge. 

Poe worried, but forced himself to respect the clear boundary that Finn had put up. He spent the evening with his father, cooking in comfortable near-silence like they used to. They made a stew again, Poe in the mood for something hearty to lift his spirits, and Finn’s, if he were to emerge for a late meal. 

Unlike the core-world style of dish they’d made previously, tonight they would make something a bit more classic Yavinese. His father cooked the meat, still on the bone to later enhance the flavor of the broth, while Poe prepared the veg, peeling off skins, separating kernels, and slicing an ‘X’ across the ones that would be cooked whole.

Once Kes indicated he was ready, Poe added the veg and water to the pot before retreating to a safe distance so his father could micromanage the broth, studiously ignoring Poe’s teasing all the while. Poe paid close attention to the spices and their amounts as his father worked, but he knew that, as always, he was unlikely to be able to replicate the flavors that his father was able to create like magic. It never tasted quite right outside of this very kitchen.

They talked while they ate, finally having some of the conversations that their semi-estrangement had delayed, from the early days of his time in the Resistance to the building of hostilities with the First Order and their recent engagements. Poe reluctantly told his father a somewhat sanitized version of the story of his capture, focusing more on meeting Finn for the first time and their escape. Poe suspected that his father knew he’d edited his description of his captivity, but was grateful when Kes didn’t press the issue and leaned in to the spine-cracking hug his father pulled him into before pushing him towards the sink and telling him to get to work on the dishes.

“So,” Kes said as he packed away the remaining stew. “You and Finn seem… close.”

“Oh my _kriffing_ hell.” Poe cursed softly when he dropped the knife he’d been washing back into the sink with a clatter. _Please tell me that we are not doing this right now-_

“What was that?” 

“Nothing, Dad. Umm, I- Uh. We-” Poe trailed off and shrugged, helplessly.

His father smirked. “Oh, it’s like that, is it?”

Poe could only sigh.

**

When Poe turned in for the night, he paused outside Finn’s door with his hand raised for a moment before shaking his head, patting BB-8 on his dome, and continuing past to his own room.

**

The next morning, Finn, trailed by a chirping BB-8, joined Poe in the kitchen as Poe was cracking eggs into a bowl and considering his options for vegetables.

“How’re you doing, buddy?”

“I’m okay. Thanks for, well…” Finn waved one hand in the air helplessly. “Thanks for letting me have some space last night.”

“You don’t need to thank me. You… doing alright?”

“Yeah. I just had a lot to think about.” Finn offered a small, shrug. “But I’m okay.”

“Anything you want to think about out loud?” Poe winced. Now if that didn’t sound like the dumbest-

“Not yet, I don’t think. But thank you. It means a lot that you care.”

“I do! Care, I mean. Uh, I mean. I care a lot about you, Finn.”

_Oh my dying stars, what am I doing right now?!_

Poe rushed on before Finn could respond. “Anyways, want to learn how to make an omelette? This one’ll blow anything the mess cooks up out of the sky, I promise.”

**

Finn followed Poe’s instructions carefully, and really only ran into trouble when he tried to crack the eggs one-handed like Poe did. He grumbled throughout the entire three minutes it took him to fish out all the slippery bits of shell from the bowl while Poe didn’t even bother to try to hide his smile.

Under Poe’s tutelage, Finn fried off carefully diced onions and peppers and then added them to the pan with the cooking eggs along with a soft, creamy local cheese. 

“Here, try this.” Poe’s heart flipped in his chest when Finn immediately opened his mouth to accept the salty piece of thinly-sliced, cured meat from Poe’s hand.

“Mmmm, that is delicious. Can I have another? It’s important to “quality control test” our ingredients, isn’t it?”

Poe, distracted by the sight of Finn’s lips as he spoke, suspected he took far too long to respond, but did eventually snap back to attention and offer Finn another bite. “Yes. Yes it is.”

When they finished, they each had a fine example of an omelette to brag about, and settled at the table along the large windows. The jovial atmosphere from cooking dissipated, settling into a quiet calm that made Poe wonder if Finn’s mind was back on whatever had sent him in search of solitude last night.

Finn was quiet for several more long moments, chewing his breakfast thoughtfully before he met Poe’s gaze. “This… eating with someone, cooking for them, teaching them… It means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”

Poe wasn’t quite sure where Finn was going with this line of conversation, but he still felt as though he’d been caught out somehow.

“I-“ What was he supposed to say? Other than the truth, he supposed. “Yes. It does.”

“Why? Or how?” Finn frowned, apparently at his own choice of words, shaking his head and releasing a soft growl of frustration. “I mean, what does it mean to you?”

Oh stars, what could Poe even say in answer to that? 

“It means that you are someone important.”

“You introduce me to new foods and bring me things to try and even your father has made me his student. That’s all because I’m… important. To you?” Finn’s voice had a hint of disbelief in it. Not the accusatory kind, no. His was the wondrous kind.

Poe nodded, but that apparently wasn’t going to be enough for Finn.

“Important how?”

“You’re my friend,” Poe started, but knew that wasn’t enough. Not enough accuracy or honesty. “And you are becoming a member of my families. The big, weird, dangerous one in the Resistance and my small, personal one here. And I want you to be more, too. If you’d like to be.”

Finn nodded and a smile broke over his face, lighting it up like the sun. “I’d like that a lot.”

Poe heaved a sigh of relief. “Me too, buddy. Definitely me too.”

** ** **

Finn practiced his newly acquired bread-making skills with Poe there for guidance. And to brush some errant flour off his shirt. And stand close beside him to help direct his hands in the kneading process.

All in the name of being a good teacher, of course. And Finn certainly didn’t seem to mind, peppering Poe with questions and grabbing his hand to pull him closer to ask about the correct consistency.

Poe found it far more satisfying than he’d ever thought something as chaste as cooking in his childhood home could ever be.

Finn gave the dough one last pat before covering the bowl with a large cloth. “So now, the recipe says the dough needs to rise for about an hour until it’s doubled in size.”

“A hour? Hmmm, however will we pass the time?”

Finn grinned. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”

** ** **

_“If you really want to make a friend, go to someone’s house and eat with him… the people who give you their food give you their heart.”_ -Cesar Chavez

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Secret Ingredient [PODFIC]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18710044) by [bluegeekEM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluegeekEM/pseuds/bluegeekEM), [lilyrose225](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyrose225/pseuds/lilyrose225)




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